The Rise and Fall of the Green Team
by renomakiFF
Summary: What if other teams in the TF2 world existed? What if there was a great history book keeping track of all of them? What if there was one team that did so poorly, that it became a tale told all over the world, never to be forgotten? Read and find out.


The Rise and Fall of the Green Team

Many of you know about the Red and Blue teams. Many of you know about the endless war they fight for total dominance of the world. But did you know that there are more than just two teams in the Team Fortress world? That these unknown teams vie to become a mighty superpower just like Red or Blue team?

Throughout Team Fortress history, as the war raged on, many smaller teams formed. Many of them with dreams of becoming just like Red or Blue: An almighty powerhouse competing for control of the world, rather than trying hard to survive on what they have and defending itself from fellow minorities every single day.

Yes, life was hard for these smaller teams. Many came and went as time went by, without anyone really noticing. But not all teams faded away into the trash bin of history. Some still continue on to this day, much bigger and more powerful than they once were, with a fair amount of land under their control and enough firepower to hold out for a long, long time against even one of the major teams in the world. A great example of a successful minor team would be Orange Team, which is somewhere in TFGermany.

Then there are teams like Green Team...

The story you are about to hear is a story about how one Team, Green Team, decided to try and do the impossible with everything they had, and attempt to make their dreams come true... And ended up demonstrating what happens when a minor team tries to take on one of the major teams.

It all began near the end of Saturday, with the sun setting and the first stars of the night popping into the sky for all to see. Somewhere in TFSouthAmerica, TFTexas, the small shantytown that was the home of the Green Team was quiet. Yet, no one was in their scrap metal homes. Instead, everyone was at the shantyfort, listening to General Mustang's latest big idea.

Who is General Mustang? Why, the leader of the Green Team, of course. He was a brave, blood thirsty soldier who, 2 years ago, was once a member of another minor team, known as the Pink Team. He left the Pink Team after he tried to rebel against its leader for command of the team and failed, forced to retreat with his 550 followers. If only most of his followers were not made up of idiots, lazy bums, cowards, and outright retarded dingbats, he wouldn't have been forced to leave and would have won control. At least he did Pink Team a favour and got rid of all the useless members of the team. Because of what he did, Pink Team was able to grow into a fine minor team in the world.

Anyways, inside the fort, General Mustang was almost done explaining his latest plan to the 400 surviving members of his team, who watched him with blank stares. "And thus, if all goes according to plan, we will become the most powerful team of all the minorities! And best of all, we will finally be recognised as a superpower by the two major teams, and will finally be able to get a real shot at taking over the world! Now, any questions?" asked Mustang to his loyal army. An obese scout in the third row raised his chubby hand. "Ah, Pitter. What is your question?"

"What was the plan again?" asked Pitter, who let out a yawn shortly after.

"W-what?" Mustang replied in surprise, "weren't you listening?"

"Well, I was, but I got hungry 22 seconds after you began talking about the plan, and had myself a sandwich. Then I got tired and feel asleep."

A cross-eyed sniper in the second row then sat up among the crowd and raised his hand. "Oh! Oh oh! I know the plan! I know the plan, General!"

"Well then, spit it out, Chuck." Said Mustang as he crossed his arms, hoping Chuck knew the plan.

"Uhhhh... We... Um... We build the Blue Team a fort in TFMexico?"

"No, you moron! Weren't any of you listening?"

An Engineer then stood up and raised his hand. "Sir, may I speak?"

"Ugh, yes, Willie." Groaned Mustang.

"Well, to tell the truth, no one really was paying much attention to you after that three winged bird starting flying around the inside of the fort, flying in circles above us right in this room. It was kinda funny seeing it fly with three wings for a while. By the time you were almost done, it left, so we just kinda resumed listening to you."

"Oh, for pete's sake! Am I going to have to explain my master plan AGAIN?" Groaned Mustang again, facepalming himself in disappointment. All of his men nodded, wanting to hear his plan again, since they failed to listen the first time.

"Fine, I'll explain my plan again," said Mustang as he reached for the shotgun strapped to his back, "but if I have to explain my plan again after this, I am going to have to shoot someone. Now, pay attention this time, you dummies!" Everyone then went quiet and paid complete attention to the general. "Now, here is the plan. Step one: Early morning, we will get up and pack up for a long trip to TFMexico, where the Blue Team is building a new fortress. It will be a long journey, but it will be worth it. Step two: Once we are close to the building site, we will send in our only spy, Jacob, to go inside and check things out before the raid. This way, we will be able to know what they have in store for us before we attack. Step three: When the Blues are off guard, we will rush in and give em all we got, catching them by surprise. Snipers and artillery will give us cover fire while the rest of us charge em. Step four: When all Blue enemies are defeated, we will take over the fort and claim it as our own, continuing the construction where they left off and making good use of whatever is found in the fort. With the help of Blue technology, we will become more powerful than ever before! If all goes well, we could use this victory to bring us to the top, and make us a superpower worthy of respect! Then, with my grand leadership, I will lead us all on the path of world conquest! Now, did everyone get it this time?" A heavy with an afro then raised his hand.

"Uhh, are you sure this will work?"

"Will it work? WILL IT WORK? Of course it will work! It's so simple, that even you morons could do it! Now get some rest, people... We have a big day tomorrow." And thus, everyone got up and headed to their scrap metal homes for the night to rest up for the big day tomorrow.

The next morning, the quiet shantytown was alive with activity. Medics were charging up their Medipacks full of healing energy at their shantyhospital/factory. Heavies, snipers, pyros, and most other class types were rushing into the armoury to stock up on ammo and other necessities. While all that was happening, all the engineers were busy inspecting the trucks they would use for troop transport and checking their homemade medium range artillery to make sure they worked fine. General Mustang at the time just woke up, walking outside his scrap fort in his underpants, yawning and stretching after a good night. He then began to walk through the waves of people running back and forth, the first thing on his mind at the moment was getting his clothes at the shantylaundromat/workshop. Soon, he was there, and his clean uniform was proudly hanging on a rope next to a dress which belonged to Ralf the heavy. He then gently took down his shirt and pressed it against his nose, taking in the sweet scent... Of shit and gasoline. But he didn't care much, since if all went well, he would become a mighty superpower just like Red and Blue, and will be able to do more than ever before... Such as taking a bath.

By now, many of you must be thinking: "How does taking over a Blue fort give this team a shot at the big game of world conquest?"

To tell the truth, I am not too sure. Sure, by taking over a fort, they could use what's inside to help them survive the harsh world they live in and make life a little better. But to think that such an act would help them get one step closer to becoming a superpower is rather a bit exaggerated. They also fail to realise that if they were to take the fort, Blue Team would come back for it sooner or later, and kick their asses all the way to kingdom come.

Of course, the fact that General Mustang is a little bit on the crazy side might make sense as to why he believes such an act would give him a shot at power.

But I digress, so let us continue with our story, shall we?

After getting all dressed from behind an old bus (since he wasn't in the mood to walk all the way home to get dressed), he began to walk around and check out how everyone was doing. Walking past the hospital/factory, he was pleased at how all the medics where all working hard to get ready... Well, most of them were. Carol was the only one goofing off by building sandcastles out of coke powder for some reason. He always was an odd person...

Then Mustang walked by the armoury, and saw his dim-witted men gearing up for battle. Most of them were simply packing ammo and such. But some of his men, however, were doing something different.

Pitter was busy packing snack foods, like pancakes and sandwiches, rather than packing ammo for his shotgun. His motto always was "you can't fight on an empty stomach!" Of course, he fails to realise that without the extra ammo, he doesn't really stand a chance out there. But he doesn't really care as long as he is well fed before, during, and after the battle.

Ralf was busy trying out a few dresses for the occasion rather than fetching supplies. To him, a good looking dress is the first priority, makeup a second priority, and combat supplies comes last. He would never go into battle looking unattractive.

A pyro named Gerald was busy checking his safety gear and making sure his fire extinguisher was full and ready to use. For those who don't know him, he is afraid of fire. Why did he become a pyro? No one knows.

And then there was Moe the demoman, who was packing an easel and pants so he could pant the battle as it happened. Moe wasn't much of a fighter, and he wasn't really into blowing stuff up. He was more into the arts. Of course, this might also be a clever excuse to not risk his life in battle, and sit back and relax while everyone else did the dirty work.

There are quite a few more, but I think it would best if we moved on, shall we? If I continued to describe what everyone was doing, this part of the story would take 2 hours for you to read.

After passing by the armoury, Mustang continued on to his final destination: The parking lot where the engineers were working.

There, he saw his many engineers working hard to make sure everything was in tip top shape. Well, all but Jimbo, since he isn't a really good engineer at all. As he walked by and watched his wrench masters at work, he saw something that caught his eye... Something odd...

As he passed by where the artillery was, he recalled that there were five cannons there before. But now, there seemed to be three, along with a rather large pile of scrap not far from the big guns. Curious, he walked up to one of the engineers working on the artillery and decided to ask him what happened to the rest of the guns. "Private Ben," he asked kindly, "what happened to the other two artillery cannons? Did you store them somewhere?" Ben, in response, had a nervous look on his face, and started to tremble, as if he was afraid of something.

"Well, uhh.. Um... Oh, how do I explain this?" Ben said nervously, suddenly sweating bullets.

"What? What did you do to them?"

"Well, I-"

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" interrupted Mustang, who was starting to get really angry due to the feeling that Ben must have done something stupid. Ben, his body filled with fear, then pointed at the scrap piles and explained what happened.

"Well... You see... I was just doing a bit of inspecting this morning, but then I got hungry, so I asked Jimbo to do me a favour and-"

"You asked that moron to take your place and check the artillery for bugs while you got a bite to eat, didn't you?"

"Um... Yes... When I returned, I found him sitting next to this HUGE pile of scrap. I would have tried fixing it, but he lost a lot of bolts and other things needed to keep the guns together..."

Just then, Jimbo came and interrupted. "Look, look!" Jimbo exclaimed as he reached out his hand to show Mustang something, "I found these bugs in the guns while Ben was away!" In the palm of his hand, there were three dead houseflies and a dead ladybug. Mustang was not impressed.

"Jimbo," said Ben to his retarded friend, "what I meant by bugs, I meant things like faulty wiring and stuff, not real bugs..."

"Oh... I'm sorry..." Jimbo said, felling a little stupid after what he did.

"You know, boys," Mustang then said to the both of them while trying to control his anger, "normally, I would have whacked one of ya in the balls with my shovel for what you did... But I'm not going to do that... Why? Two things. One: I need all the troops here for our great battle later on to be in tip-top shape. So you are lucky that I decided not to whack you. Otherwise, I would be taking a big risk by being one man short when the battle comes. Two: I am still glad to see that at least THREE of our cannons are still working. It's better than NO cannons. Besides, all we need the artillery for is to deplete the blue forces working on the base, not the base itself. There shouldn't be a lot of them also, if I am correct..." Mustang then turned to look at the guns in all their trashy glory. "... So... Are the transports ready?" Mustang asked his two bumbling inspectors, his tone more calm now.

"Uhh... Yes. They should all be working fine." replied Ben

"Good... Tell the boys to hop aboard em, because now... It's time to make our move..."

"Dur, you sure, boss?" asked Jimbo, as he stared deeply at the bugs in his palm.

"Of course I am sure! If we strike now, we will surely catch them off guard, and quickly win this battle with little loss!" Then, without delay, General Mustang dashed over and got into one of the trucks, quickly turning it on and honking its horn, signalling everyone that it was time to rock and roll! Soon, everyone was hopping onto the trucks, crowding each truck quite a bit. But they didn't mind, since it was a lot better than walking the whole way. While most of the trucks were carrying troops, three of them would be hooked up and towing the big guns with them, along with the ammo needed to use the cannons. Very soon, everyone began their drive to the building site, ready to give it their all in the name of opportunity...

Sadly, according to history, it would be the beginning of the end for these poor souls.

It was a long drive, and many days had past. Of course, it would have taken longer, if it wasn't for the fact that General Mustang forced his engineer drivers to drive day and night without hardly any rest whatsoever. While the rest of the troops were snoozing in the back of each truck, the drivers were forced to drink large amounts of coffee in order to stay awake. Cruel, isn't it? Surprisingly, Mustang was able to keep awake the whole time. He NEVER had a cup of coffee during the whole drive. No one knows how he does it... But God.

... And Jimbo.

A few days later, they soon found themselves in TFMexico. As they were driving on, Mustang reached for his binoculars to view the area around him. As he scanned the area around him, he soon caught a glimpse of what he was looking for: The Blue fortress.

"Ok boys!" he said to all his men via his combat walky-talky, "The fort is not too far from here. I want all trucks to be parked near that big rock over to our right. That would be a good place to hide and get ready for the raid." The drivers all replied with a tired groan, and then tried to do as they were ordered. But alas, due to their lack of sleep, they couldn't really think all that well, and instead of turning right, they ended up swerving all over the place! They bumped into each other, they smashed (and broke) small trees and bushes, and even ran over a cute little reptile FIVE TIMES! Thankfully, they were able to make it to their meeting place behind the rock and finally end their long drive.

As everyone in the back of each truck hopped off, and as each driver opened the car door and fell face first into the sand in total exhaustion, Mustang did a quick check to make sure everyone and everything was accounted for. To his surprise, after a quick check of the artillery, he found that one of them was missing. It was Jimbo's job to tow one of the cannons with him, so he went over to him to see what the deal was. "Jimbo... What happened to that artillery you were towing?"

"Uhh, well, you see..." Jimbo replied, his voice most tired, "while I was driving along, I heard this noise of some sort, and then a little later, I heard this crashing noise, and an explosion, and, uh..."

"You lost it, didn't you," Mustang said to Jimbo, giving him a miffed look in the eyes. Jimbo nodded in fear, really scared of what Mustang might do to him. Mustang then got his shovel and raised it into the air.

"You know, after what you did, I don't really care if I am one man short," Mustang said in an enraged voice before proceeding to beat the living poopy out of Jimbo, letting all his disappointment out on one retarded engineer. After he got rid of his anger, he signalled his men to get ready for a long walk, since they are still a good distance away from the base. Since they didn't want to make too much noise, instead of using the trucks to carry the artillery and artillery ammo, they got the heavies to do the heavy lifting. The cannons were each carried by a pair of heavies, while five other heavies stuffed artillery rounds into backpacks. A few other heavies also got together to help carry Pitter as well, since he fell into a deep slumber again.

As the Green Team marched towards their destiny, a Blue sniper was patrolling along an uncompleted wall of the fortress in the making. As he stopped and leaned against the wall to have a smoke, he saw something in the distance. Using the scope of his rifle, he saw that it was some kind of military force. But instead of the Red Team, it was some other team that was marching towards the base. That team, of course, was the Green Team. The sniper had never seen such a thing in his life: a heavy wearing a dress, a fat scout, an engineer with only one arm, and even a single spy with an afro so large, it's a wonder how he is able to hide with that on. Concerned of what he saw, he quickly ran to the commanding officer's building within the walls of the fort to tell him the news.

Meanwhile, far from the fort, the Green Team was just setting up their artillery as General Mustang was talking to Jacob. "Ok, so you know what to do, right?" asked Mustang.

"Yeah, sure do," replied Jacob, "just give me a sec to get ready." Then in a moment, he took a bottle of water out from his suit, and began to soak himself in water. Then he proceeded to fall face-first into the sand and roll around in it, ruining his good suit. "There," he said proudly while still lying on the ground, "now that I am disguised as sand, I will go and take a look around the fort to see what is inside. Hopefully, you are right about them not having a large number of troops working there." And then he began to crawl towards the base, looking rather stupid in the process.

Meanwhile, back at the commanding officer's office, the sniper was reporting what he saw to the commander. "A small force of strange men in green uniforms marching towards our base? That is different. I wonder who they are?" asked the commander after the sniper told him the news.

"I don't know, but whoever they are, I believe they are planning to raid our base. I don't think we could handle a force like that. We might just have to leave."

"Hold on, did you say something about strange men in green uniforms?" asked a fellow engineer, who at the time was working on the lighting in the office, "Oh, those guys are no threat to us."

"What do you mean? How do you know them so well?" asked the commander, a little surprised at his engineer's calmness.

"Well, ya see, from what I heard, these guys are one of those minor teams. We already know how weak most of those kinds of teams are, but that doesn't mean they can't be a threat. But after hearing countless stories about these guys, it is safe to assume that they are THE WORSE team in the whole world. Nothing but an army of weaklings, cowards, retards, you name it! The day they win a battle will be the day a heavy invents a cure for the common cold."

The commander and the sniper looked at each other for a moment, and then they returned their eyes to the engineer. "So, ok," said the sniper, "we know they are weak and stupid, but why would they want to try and attack our base?"

"You just answered your own question, friend. It's because they are stupid, and they believe that by taking this fort, they will become stronger. If I am correct, they must have thought that by attacking us while we were working on the base would make it easier to take. Sadly, they underestimated us," said the engineer as he fixed a light bulb.

"Well then, I am not going to stand by while a bunch of barbarians are heading towards the base. Alert the troops! No one is going to hinder our progress on this fort!" ordered the commander as he slammed his fist upon a big blue button, sounding an alarm throughout the base.

As an alarm blared at the Blue fort, General Mustang was still waiting for Jacob to return with some info. "Damn it," he said in disappointment, "where the hell is he? I hope he didn't get caught."

"I am right here, sir!" said Jacob, who was standing behind Mustang at the time.

"Oh thank goodness, your back! What intel did you learn?" Mustang asked. Jacob, in response, merely stood there, trying to remember what he learned. "Oh, for the love of God, Jacob! Don't tell me you forgot what you saw in the base... Did you?" Mustang groaned as he facepalmed himself. Jacob nervously nodded. "Didn't you even bother to write anything down or tape something?"

"Well... No sir," replied Jacob in a nervous tone, "I didn't have a pen with me at the time, and my watchcam is broken."

"Damn it! Ugh, you always did have a problem remembering things. Oh well, it's too late to go back, since they seemed to have found out about us. Looks like it's time to commence the third step in my master plan." Mustang then took a megaphone from an engineer who was playing with it at the time, and began to speak to his army with it. "Ok boys! You know the drill. All snipers, along with a few engineers, should stay back and give us cover fire. Everyone else must follow me into battle, and take on the enemy! Are you all ready to fight by my side?"

"Wait!" Ralf exclaimed, later reaching into his purse and taking out some lipstick "Give me a moment to put on some makeup first." He then proceeded to apply lipstick to his lips, while everyone around him stared at him in a weirded-out way. "Ok, now I am ready to kill tiny baby men." Ralf said as he readied his minigun, looking eagerly at the base ahead.

"Ok, my troops," Mustang said as he grabbed his RPG from behind his back, "CHARGE!"

And so they charged into battle, looking like an army of A-team rejects.

Meanwhile, back at the blue fort, all the troops mobilised on top of the fort walls, snipers grouping together in the towers while soldiers were manning the MGs placed along the wall. A few demomen also stood along the wall, eager to test out Blue Team's latest weapon: the smoke grenade launcher. As they watched the Green Team charge toward them, getting closer and closer, the Blue commander walked up the stairs and manned a machine gun along with his fellow soldiers. "Well boys, it looks like after a good month of peace and quiet, we are finally going to get some action around here. You all ready?"

"We are always ready for a fight commander. That's why we are part of the soldier class!" said one of the soldiers with pride.

"It is an honour to fight alongside you, field commander Tomas." Commented another soldier as he adjusted his helmet.

"Ah, this brings back fond memories of D-day... Only this time, I am the one behind the MG!" commented a soldier who was standing right next to the commander.

"Enough with the chatter, people. We have a job to do. Demomen, you know what to do, right?" asked the commander to his demomen.

"Hell yeah, man! I can't wait to send people into a panic with these babies!" one of the demomen replied, looking really excited.

"Ok then. On my command, I want you demomen to launch your smoke grenades in front of the enemy forces. When that is done, I want all you guys manning the MGs to unleash hell upon those punks, you got it?" commanded the commander as he watched the Green Team charge towards them. All his men replied with a big "YES SIR", getting themselves ready to act the second he gives the word. "Very good. Now get ready, they are getting close."

And close they were, for they were already 400 feet away from the Blue base, still charging. Well, everyone but Pitter, who had to stop to regain his breath. After a few seconds, the commander gave the order to fire smoke grenades, which the demomen did gladly, firing volley after volley in front of the Green Team troops, startling them and sending them into a slight panic. Shortly after the smoke grenades were launched, the snipers and machine gunners opened fire, sending a tidal wave of lead death towards the invading forces. The battle was on! As the Blue Team mowed the Green Team troops down one by one, General Mustang did his very best to lead his troops to victory. Or course, he didn't do such a good job.

As the battle raged on, Ralf the heavy was busy trying to give cover fire to the general when suddenly, a bullet whizzed by and zinged his dress. "My dress! My brand new dress!" Ralf exclaimed as he reached down and grabbed the part of his dress that got ruined, looking at it in disappointment. He later looked up at the gunners hiding behind the smoke screen up ahead, and felt a rage build up inside him. "No one, and I mean NO ONE messes with my dress!" Without delay, he began to waste his ammo like the idiot he was, trying in vain to kill one of the solders up ahead that he couldn't see, due to all the smoke. Then, all of a sudden, he got shot in the back by a friendly sniper, totally caught by surprise. As if that wasn't bad enough, all the medics were too busy healing the general, so his cries for help went unheard. After a short while, Mustang soon noticed that something was not going according to plan. "Hey, wait a second! Why isn't our artillery firing?" he wondered, looking back to see what the problem was.

Back at where the artillery was placed, many snipers tried desperately to hit their targets, yet could only miss. That, or hit their own comrades, which also happened once in a while as the battle continued. As the snipers poorly did their job, the engineers were busy trying to remember how to work THEIR OWN ARTILLERY. You heard me right. Just as the biggest battle in their lives was taking place in front of them, they forgot how to use their scrap cannons. "Well Joey," said one of the engineers as he stared at the control panel, "we found out how to turn this baby left and right, and we found out how to honk its horn. But we still don't know how to shoot."

"Why not try that big green button, Billy-bo-billy?" suggested Joey while he was reading a playboy.

"But they are all green."

"I mean the biggest button. Try that."

"Oh, ok then." And so, Billy-bo-billy pressed the big green button. At first, there was a whirring sound. Then there was a loud hissing. Next thing they both new, the damn thing exploded! The explosion even caused a chain reaction, setting off nearby artillery shells and making fiery chaos, taking out all the snipers and artillery in that area. Back at the battlefield where Mustang's men fell left and right, Mustang watched in shock as his cover fire and artillery support was blown to bits.

"... Damn it." Mustang quietly said to himself before returning to battle. Although he may have lost his artillery support, he wasn't going to give up. By this time, the smoke had began to clear up, letting them see a little better now. Sadly, it still didn't help their aim, since they never were good at hitting things with bullets.

As the Blue gunners and snipers rained lead upon the Green troops, Moe was busy painting from a distance, watching his own comrades die one after the other, and trying to paint a picture of the sight. Then Pitter ran by, huffing and puffing and all covered sweat as he suddenly plopped down next to Moe. "Ugh... Who's winning?" Pitter asked Moe as he tried to regain his breath.

"Meh, it be the Blue Team." Moe replied, not really giving a damn as long as he wasn't being shot at. Just as Pitter was getting up, an RPG round hit the ground between them, killing them both. I guess even being far from the battle didn't help their odds of survival.

After a while, having his forces cut in half, General Mustang decided that it was time to push forward towards the gate, instead of standing around trying to shoot the men manning the machine guns placed along the wall. Together with his many men, they all charged closer to the gate as the Blue gunners continued to turn their bodies into Swiss cheese. Mustang had no problem getting hit, thanks to all the medics healing him as he ran towards the gate. Everyone else, however, had to resort to using bad kung fu moves in order to avoid getting hit, only to end up falling over and hurting themselves, thus leaving them vulnerable.

It wasn't long before they got within 50 feet from the gate. But as soon as they got too close, it opened before them, sending many Blue heavies, pyros, and scouts armed with SMGs their way. It was a battle up close and personal, and it wasn't pretty.

The moment Gerald saw the Blue pyros, he began to freak out. In the middle of the firefight between the Greens and Blues, one of the Blue pyros made eye contact with Gerald, and began to dash towards him. Gerald then readied his extinguisher to combat the fire of the pyro, unaware of what the Blue pyro was planning. As he got closer and closer to Gerald, Gerald began to fire his extinguisher, covering the Blue pyro in a foamy substance while the Blue pyro reached for his axe, and later swung it at Gerald, lopping the coward's head off. After he was dealt with, the pyro continued on his killing spree, joining his fellow troops in battle against the Green losers.

"Come on, men! We can win this!" yelled Mustang to his troops as he fought on, beating people to death with his trusty shovel. But alas, he still failed to see what was happening around him. Left and right, the Blues slowly pushed back the Greens, even with their small numbers. Some of his men even tried to flee, only to get shot in the back. As more corpses littered the battlefield, Mustang found himself fighting harder and harder, when all of a sudden, a shot hit him in the head, knocking off his helmet and showing him a shocking truth. He was all alone now, surrounded by Blues. He looked around, and saw his dire situation. As much as he hated to do it, he had no other choice but to sadly surrender after all. He raised both his hands into the air in defeat as the commander of the Blue forces in the area came down to see the man responsible for the trouble caused today.

"So, this is the leader of the whole bunch, eh?" commented the commander "You sure were a nuisance, harming my men and damaging my fort and all that. Thanks to you, we wasted a bunch of ammo and time. But at least you provided us with some target practice."

"So, what are you going to do to me now, huh? Torture me for information? Make me into a POW? What?" asked Mustang, gritting his teeth in anger.

"Well, as good as those things sound, I think I have something better for you..."

Next thing he knew, Mustang became a living punching bag for the rest of his life.

And so, there you have it. The story of how one minor team tried to do the impossible, and ended up getting wiped off the face of the TFearth. It's a bizarre tale, is it not?

Learn from this moment in history, my friends: Never, EVER, go into battle with an army of retards. It would only lead you to ruin... And embarrassment.


End file.
